The Stark in Winterfell
by SimplyTully
Summary: Present!Blackfish, AFFC-ADWD. Follow-up of "Family Duty Honor" and "What Strange Hell or Heaven". Some illustrious guest stars.


THE STARK IN WINTERFELL

"What if both champions die? We are back to the beginning."

"Oh please, Jason! Stop being so gloomy."

Had she said _Jason_? Had I even heard _her_ voice?

I was not very interested in finding out. I lay in darkness, a darkness full of grief and pain, but opening my eyes would make it worse. Detached from my mind, my body would not follow its orders. The Stranger waited, patient and kind.

The hand holding mine gave a squeeze. I concentrated all of myself on my hand. I think my fingers twitched.

"He's awake!" Lady Maege Mormont cried in triumph. Recognizing her presence was a step towards consciousness and acceptance, which I did not want. Yet she of all people could almost draw me towards life -

_You have learned, lad._

I sank back into death-seeking desperation.

"He hears us," Maege stated. A quiver in her voice. "Blackfish, wake up or I'll kill you."

Oh, gods, unbelievably I wanted to laugh. I elicited something that sounded like a cough.

"There! He does hear us!" Mormont crowed.

No response from Lord Jason Mallister. Probably pursing his lips in skepticism.

_I am proud of you._

No, I was not going to laugh. I relented my grip on Maege's hand. I was ready to let go of her. The Stranger was even more attractive than her. The weight on my eyes increased.

"Blackfish, I dare you…"

"We must let them in," Mallister suggested hurriedly.

"I'll never let _him_ in!" Mormont exclaimed.

"It could help ser Brynden," Mallister replied. "Give him a purpose." She grunted.

Ages passed.

Someone new was standing beside my cot. His voice held false mockery, true dismay, overall awe.

"So here's the man who defeated Barristan the Bold in single combat."

And I was back where I did not want to be.

We had already discarded our horses and our helms. Barristan, defending the right of Queen Daenerys on the land, had almost managed to detach my left arm and had tried to crush my skull - only a glancing blow. I, as champion of the North, had inflicted similar wounds on him. We were tired. We were old. We would not stop this time. Not like at Maidenpool forty years before, where our duel had ended with Barristan's victory. That night I had mistaken Barristan's attitude and made an advance towards him. He had been forced to refuse. And now we were trying to kill each other.

I was not aware of my surroundings, only of my adversary. We were on an open field, trampled snow beneath our feet. In the struggle, Barristan had ended up with his back to the distant ruins of Winterfell. It was thus that I noticed something behind him. It looked like riders in the distance, coming towards us.

My eyes were full of blood; I could not be sure. Probably Barristan did not realize I was hesitating for a reason beyond weariness. He tried to end it. He lunged, but only managed to wound me through the lower ribs on my left side. His guard faltered. My sword went through him.

As I knelt in the bloody snow beside him, his last words were _You have learned, lad. I am proud of you._

I forced my eyes open.

A young man, blond and still handsome, despite the hardships. His right arm ended in a stump. I saw mischief in his green eyes, but not pity, and for that I almost liked him.

"_Kingslayer,"_ I articulated through dried blood on my lips.

Jaime Lannister laughed. "I knew this would be the first word I'd hear from you, Blackfish." He looked at my wounds, then said: "You wanted a Stark? I brought you a Stark."

He moved out of my field of vision, and the flap of the tent lifted to reveal my own niece, my dearest Catelyn, as I remembered her from my youth. A girl of about fifteen, blue eyes and auburn hair like mine had once been, lovely in a white-and-gray Stark cloak. Her gown bore the Tully colours.

Maege and Jason had left the tent. My eyes filled with tears, then cleared. I knew the truth, as the young woman walked to my side and spoke with smiling Tully lips. "Greetings, Ser Brynden. I am Sansa Stark, daughter of Catelyn Tully and Eddard Stark."

I nodded. "I remember you, child."

She took my hand. "And I do remember you, though I was just a baby when you visited Winterfell. You told stories to my brothers Robb and Jon." She looked away. "Then I believe my mother took me up to my room for the night." There was an ancient regret in her voice.

Regret. I was suddenly furious with the young man with the golden hair. "Just one moment earlier, Lannister. Just one breath. You could have saved ser Barristan's life."

Jaime grimaced in sarcasm. "I was held up by your damn sentries. At last Lady Stark convinced them she was who she said to be."

"I grieve for ser Barristan too, uncle," Sansa said. "I know what you did. I know the price."

Sansa Stark truly had her mother's eyes. The eyes of an adult woman, grown up through hardship and sorrow. I would have scoffed at a fifteen-year-old girl claiming she knew what killing Barristan meant for me. Instead I believed Sansa. I held on to her hand. Until we learned the fate of my nephew Edmure and of her siblings, we were all that was left of our family. Tears ran from the corners of my eyes along my temples and into my hair.

"So many things happened, Uncle Brynden," she said gently. "I have much to tell you."

I too had several unpleasant news for her. My meeting with Lady Stoneheart, for example. The oath she had wrung from me. Could I tell the young woman that I had sworn to kill her mother? Could she ever forgive me? I would not face _that_. Not now.

"There will be time, Sansa."

Jaime Lannister had silently excused himself. I expected a _very_ good explanation from him, but what mattered was that at last he had honoured the promise made to Catelyn so long before. He had brought at least one of her daughters home. Now I was alone with my grand-niece… the Stark in Winterfell, I realized suddenly, and the future Warden of the North. I had no doubt that Queen Daenerys too would honour her promise.

Sansa nodded, as though she knew the grief that still lay before us. "All the time we need."

I was so tired I felt like passing out on the spot, but the Stranger had retreated once again into his darkness. Sansa's hand in mine, like Maege's had been earlier, was warm, strong, full of promise.

Alive.

THE END


End file.
